I remember snapshots now, fragments of moments that hold together pieces of the last few months in my mind. Seems more fitting this way. It is impossible to hold it all at once and foolish to even attempt. Who am I to give voice to all of this? Who am I to give up trying?
These snapshots flood me now that I can reflect, exhale, look forward.
Holding our breath while reading the news – the terrible news that keeps on coming. Our boys. Three boys. One family hanging between suspense and hope.
Eyes locking when an air-raid siren goes off – seeing our thoughts reflected in each other’s eyes.
Holding – as we run to a shelter, as we go get groceries. Every moment feels heightened, crucial and mundane simultaneously.
My dentist’s hands shaking in my mouth as he tells me of his son fighting this war. Waiting for no news at all. No news is good news, he reassures us both.
The wind knocked out – after getting the call, tzav 8, report for war. Holding each other, without the need for words.
Waking the baby to say goodbye, seeing the shadows, cast by the streetlight, of the sweetest embrace.
The breath of relief upon a quick return, soon followed by the guilt of our own fortune.
My baby son’s cries at a soldier’s funeral attended by thousands of strangers, family members we haven’t yet met.
More news. Articles, videos, soundbites. Searching for a piece of truth to hold onto, in hope of finding hope.
The suffering is unspeakable. It haunts me in sleep as much as in wakefulness.
The gust of wind during a dusk walk that brings me back to this moment. The paradox of calm existing next to chaos.
We’re getting there – back to something we weren’t aware of when we had it. The status quo, the calm amidst a constantly brewing storm.
All that is unimportant has fallen away. And I long for it. For a quiet that allows me to reflect.
I miss this place I didn’t know, even when.
I was held.
I am holding. We are holding for each other. All of existence mirrored in each fragmented, scattered moment.
A constant seeking for graceful wholeness, within and without.